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Mathias Mordurie
District Two Male, 18 Years Old
Gamemaker Sessions

"Leilani Theriott."

The girl from One stands up, shooting a glance past her District partner and right towards the male from Four. Jonah nods his head, mouthing the words 'good luck' to her. She stands up straight, composing herself before walking through the sliding doors.

When they close behind her, Levana groans. She leans her head back on the wall, her small frame barely coming up to my shoulder. I lean towards her, looking down at her.

"Loosen up," I say, nudging her with my shoulder. She scoots over, distancing herself from me. "She's just a girl."

"Don't start with me," she warns, making me smirk. "And wipe that goofy smirk off your face."

"Have some fun, Lev," I say, leaning back away from her. "You'll get to kill her eventually."

"Don't call me Lev, Mathias, or I'll kill you too."

"You're kind of cute when you're angry, you know that?" I say, giving her a wink before I go back to sitting there in silence. She shifts in her seat, mumbling about something else now. Leilani comes back out, walking right past her District partner and when she sees Levana from the corner of her eye, she tilts her head forwards, smirking.

I can tell that Levana is ready to pounce.

She really is uptight.

She gets too worked up over this girl.

"Ceylon Lanier."

Ceylon stands up, seemingly dragging his body through the doors. He doesn't look back, he doesn't fix his posture did, and honestly, he doesn't really do much. The doors close behind him, but Levana doesn't have the same reaction for him.

Ceylon didn't really give her much of a fight.

I wish he did, though. I like drama.

I like drama especially when people I don't know are involved.

"Take a deep breath," I say, watching her grip the edge of the bench. "Don't get too flustered. The Gamemakers will notice that."

"I don't need advice from you," Levana snaps and I shrug my shoulders. Let that affect her training score, then.

It's not my problem if she doesn't receive the twelve she so desperately wants.

Ceylon comes back out, a smile on his expressionless face. The girl from District Four, Otrera, attempts to get his attention, but he doesn't stop for her. He just keeps walking out of the long hallway.

I wish I could just leave already.

This is all boring to me.

"Levana Coltello."

"Good luck, babe," I say as Levana gets up. She balls her hands into fists, broadening her shoulders as she walks through the doors. I continue, though, simply to entertain myself, saying, "Break a leg. Or two. Maybe even an arm."

"Who are you talking to?" The boy from District Three leans forward and asks. "

"Ghosts of the dead tributes that once sat here," I say, widening my eyes, trying to scare him. "Spooky, isn't it?"

The boy from District Three doesn't say anything else.

I tap my feet on the ground, making a beat of some sort. I do, though, wonder how Levana's doing in there. She might be a little ball of anger – both literally and figuratively. I mean, she's only about five feet, but she still can pack a punch.

That's what she says, anyway. I believe it, too.

Out of all the Careers here, I'm glad I'm with her. We might be complete opposites, but for some reason, it works. Leilani and Jonah work, too, as does Ceylon and Otrera. I would never admit that to her, though. She's already fed up that it's just the two of us.

But, deep down, I know she's happy she can spend alone time with me. She just doesn't want to show it.

She probably wants me.

She wouldn't be the only one.

The doors slide back open, and Levana appears, her face looking angrier than usual. She grits her teeth, taking a seat next to me, but I know it's in my best interest to not say anything.

But, that hasn't stopped me before, so why let it now?

"Mathias Mordurie."

Before I can say anything, my name is called, and I wave at Levana. She rolls her eyes, and as I walk away, I raise my hand in the air, still waving. The doors close behind me, and I walk forward down the hallway of lights and dark floors.

I turn the corner, entering the Training Center. It's different than the one we trained in before, this one being smaller and more compact. In one corner, I see the knives section, so that's where I decide I will go. I might as well stick with something I'm used to have and trained with.

"Mathias Mordurie," I say, introducing myself, but they already know who I am. Everyone does. "One thing, though. I think you should be fair with my score. I know that if it was based on looks, I'd be an automatic twelve. How about, for the other tribute's sake, we just judge me based on how strong I am?"

The Gamemakers don't look amused.

I am, though.

I don't need them.

Walking over to where the knives are, I try to find a large one, something that resembles what I used to work with in the bakery back in Two. I eventually find one, with a large blade and a wooden handle.

I used to cut bread with knives like these. Those were the days.

"Are there any snacks?" I call out, pulling over a dummy for me to work with. "I'm rather famished."

I press the blade against the dummy's neck. I leave it there, seeing my hair in the reflection of the blade. Shaking my hair, I watch it fall back into place. Now that I look good, I bring back the knife, and then swiftly stab the dummy in the neck.

Pushing the dummy back, I rip out of the knife, going for the stomach next. When I rip it out this time, though, I bend down, running to the back of the dummy. I stab the blade through its back, watching it come out through the other side. I leave the knife in there, going for another one before my time runs out.

When I have another knife in my hand, I notice that the timer above the Gamemakers is nearly at zero seconds. Before it's too late, I launch the knife towards the dummy. It lands in the head, the momentum of the throw making the dummy fall forwards.

I grin.

I even impress myself sometimes.

I owe all of that to working in the bakery. I worked with knives and such there. And, who knows, those skills could come in handy in the arena.

I might have to cut bread in the arena.

Except the bread will be made from flesh and blood.

Nodding my head, turning around and walking back down the hallway. I count my footsteps, just wanting to get out of here already. I never really did care for the Private Sessions, but after being in there, my opinion changed.

I want a high score. I deserve a high score.

Was that enough, though?

Of course it was.

If it wasn't, then I have made a dire mistake. One that will get me killed.

Like joining the Rebellion back in Two. By joining the mission to assassinate one of the victors.

That was another mistake I have made.

I didn't think that out of all of the rebels in my District, it would be me who would get Reaped.

But, I can't do anything about it now.

I'll try to keep myself alive. Try to fight. Try to win.

Try – it's all I can do.

Kolter Hendricks
District Six Male, 18 Years Old
Gamemaker Sessions

"Otrera Hale."

As the girl from District Four walks through the doors, Aella and Marlin walk by, both waving at me. I wave back, smiling brightly at them, and as they continue to walk, I look after them. I try to sit still, resisting the urge to run after them and to follow them to wherever they're going.

I like being with them.

I like talking to them and laughing with them, too.

I like doing everything here with them.

Glancing at Wren, she gives me a small wave, and once again, I wave and smile. She goes back to sitting on top of her hands, sitting completely still except for her eyes that are looking around the hallway constantly. I shrug, sitting back on the bench, and lean my head on the wall.

I sit there, trying to keep myself preoccupied with my thoughts, but I can't do it.

I don't like sitting here alone. Not being able to talk to anyone... It reminds me too much of home.

Besides me, Drew is sitting there, with the same grudge that she always seems to have on her face. I poke her in the shoulder, and she slides further away from me, her arms crossed over her chest. She sits there, pouting, not even giving me a side-look.

I don't like that she's always in a bad mood.

It only makes me feel bad.

"Cheer up," I say, whispering. I smile, but she still doesn't look at me. "Don't look so down.

"Leave me alone," Drew snaps.

Biting on my lower-lip, I look away, still discontent with the relationship me and Drew have. Marlin and Aella are friendly; why can't Drew and I be? Did I say something wrong? Did I do something wrong?

I'm used to being blamed for things.

But, this time, I'm positive I haven't done anything. I've only tried to be nice to her.

Yet, that still isn't good enough for Drew.

Without even realizing it, the girl from District Four has come and is now gone. The boy from Four went too, as did the girl from District Five. The boy from Five walks through the doors, and I look back at Drew, wanting her to at least look happy for once. I don't like seeing her like this.

I don't like seeing anyone like this.

"A smile is free," I say, leaning towards her again. She still gives me the cold-shoulder. "It doesn't cost a thing. Isn't that nice?"

"It's my turn," Drew says, ignoring me and standing up just as the boy from Five walks back out. She walks away, and before she can slip through the doors, I call after her.

"Good luck!"

The doors close behind her, and when I turn back around, I see Wren staring at me. She raises her eyebrow, and I wave, only getting a nod from her. I begin to tap my finger on the bench, waiting for to Drew to come back out.

She might not be the nicest person, but she deserves a good score.

We all deserve a good score.

After a few moments, Drew eventually comes back, her short hair remaining stiff as she walks. She walks right past me, staring directly ahead. I raise my hand, but after a second-thought, I keep my mouth shut.

I'll leave her alone for now.

"Kolter Hendricks."

Without letting a second pass, I'm already through the doors and enter the hallway. It's long, dark, and it cuts off at the end. I make my way down it, looking ahead, trying to keep myself focused. When I make it to the end, I walk into the Training Center, a smile immediately forming on my face.

"Wow," I say out loud, taking a few steps forward. I stop in front of the Gamemakers, snapping out of my daze from being fascinated by my surroundings. "Oh, oh! I'm Kolter. Kolter Hendricks."

They wave my hand and I then look to see where I should go.

I'm not good with swords. Or knives or bows and arrows. I'm not really good with anything.

In one corner, though, I found a wrestling mat. There are a few dummies placed on top of it, and I walk over there, figuring I should stick with something I know. I'm good with my hands and I have some body strength.

Placing my hand on one of the dummies, I feel the fabric, and when I take my hand away, I look at the Gamemakers one last time. I nod my head, sending my first punch at the dummy. It's pushed backwards a little, and I take a step forward, punching it again. I do this a few more times, and with one quick jump to the side, I throw my body into the side of it.

It falls over, and I catch myself before I fall too.

For my last punch, I try to exert as much strength as I can. The impact tears the fabric on the dummy's face, and I smile again, waving good-bye to the Gamemakers. I scurry away from the dummy, turning back down the hallway. This time, though, I feel different. I want to get out of here now.

I want to get out of this hallway.

I begin to pick up the pace, trying to reach the doors more quickly. I hope that through the doors at the other end, Aella and Marlin will be waiting for me. Then we'll for Wren, too.

They'll be waiting for me, I remind myself. They wouldn't leave me alone.

They're my friends. They'll be there waiting for me. I know it.

All this time, I just want them to be there for me. I want them to have my back and never leave my side. Not like everyone else did in District Six. My home was never a good place for me – between my father, the prison, the lack of communication and social life I had.

I couldn't deal with that anymore.

All I've ever wanted was another human. To see another human face full of emotion… Not like the guards back in the prison. It was the same mundane life over and over – seeing the same guard slip me a tasteless meal. Not even once did he smile or smirk.

I was getting sick of it.

So, I volunteered. I volunteered to liberate myself.

I volunteered to see new people.

And it's worked so far.

Audrey Kaman
District Seven Male, 18 Years Old
Gamemaker Sessions

"Gerri Faulkes."

Gerri stands up, lowering her head and sending me an amiable smile before she departs through the doors. They close behind her, and I tap my foot, waiting for her to come back. Once she's done, it's my turn.

It'll be my time to show the Gamemakers who I am and what I can do.

I only have a few minutes, so I can't waste any time.

Looking down the row of kids, I lean forward, trying to find Tasha. She's all the way down there, sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest. She stares forward, not looking back at me.

An alliance with her crossed my mind.

But, she made her first impression and I liked it. Gerri's first impression was back on the train rides. I admit that at that moment, it wasn't the best time to speak to me. I was angry. I was foolish.

I gave a bad first impression to her. To my mentors and escort, too. That was my fault.

It's all about first impressions with me; the first few words you speak are what I will always remember. She kept it short, bluntly asking if I wanted an alliance.

She's lucky I had no on else.

She's a good choice, anyway. She's strong.

And I'm stronger.

We make a good team.

A team built on strength. On trust. On mutual-reliance.

I would never betray her, either. Or anyone, for that matter. We are allies and allies will be what we are until the end; or until one of us has to kill the other or until one of us dies. Deception or manipulation would never cross my mind with, not even in a place like this.

I'm not that type of guy.

The one that will betray an ally. That will lie to them. That will backstab them.

I was taught to be better than that.

Gerri comes back out, her hair messier than it was before she went in. She smiles again, giving me a small wave before she meets her other allies.

"Audrey Kaman."

Taking a deep breath, I stand up, focusing on just this. On showing them my strength and what I'm capable. Showing them that I'm worth a high score.

That I'm not worth a three, or four, or five.

Getting a high score will pay off in the end, so I need that high score.

Walking through the doors, I continue forward, my footsteps echoing throughout the metal hallway. When I turn the corner, I enter another Training Center, immediately looking for a weapon I trained with. I make eye-contact with the Gamemakers, nod my head, and proceed forwards.

"Audrey Kaman of District Seven."

In one corner I see axes, exactly like the ones I was working with before Tasha approached me. I walk over, grabbing the first one I see. The weight is nearly the same as the other one, so this one will work. It has to work.

I need that score.

Holding the axe at my side, I approach the dummy, positioning myself to deliver my first blow. I raise it in the air, staring at the dummy's face, the carved in eyes and slit for a mouth making it seem that much more real.

This is for my wife, I think. And for my daughter.

I bring down the axe into its head.

It sinks down into it, and I rip it out, taking the whole head with me. Grabbing the head off the top of the blade, I throw it to the side and swing my axe again. The neck barely remains attached to the rest of the body, and with one more swing, the neck comes off, taking most of the upper-body with it.

It's just the lower part of the torso left.

Backing up, I raise the axe in the air, and with one swift movement, hurl it towards the dummy.

I nod at the Gamemakers, backing up out of the Training Center. Dismissing myself, I walk back down the hallway, the thought of my wife and daughter stuck in my head. Darla's probably home right now, her hand over her stomach, rubbing it.

She's waiting for me to come home. I know it.

She's waiting for me to come home so that we live the life she's always wanted. The two of us, a child of our own, a nice small house somewhere in the forest. That's all she's ever wanted.

I have to give it to her. She deserves it.

She doesn't deserve to be treated poorly anymore. She deserves a peaceful and quaint life.

It's unfair – all of this. The treatment in my District, the harshness of the Capitol, the morbidity of the Hunger Games.

Is that supposed to scare me, though? It doesn't. I'm not scared of anything. If anything, it empowers me. It makes me feel stronger, makes me feel like I have a purpose. My goal is to provide a life for my wife and daughter.

I won't stop until I achieve that goal.

I won't give up. I won't be intimidated by anything.

I will fight. I will survive. I will win.

I have to win.

For Darla.

For our daughter.

Alumax Derian
District Eleven Male, 17 Years Old
Gamemaker Sessions

"Tasha Levelle."

My eyes trail the girl from District Ten as she walks through the doors, her hands balled up into fists at her side. The doors slide closed, and I look away, a small part of me hoping Anaise still isn't there. That she isn't still watching me, waiting for my session to be over.

When I look back at the corner of the hallway, there she is. She stands there, arms to her side, leaning against the wall. She's staring at me with that deranged smirk still on her face. Closing my eyes, I rest my head back, avoiding any eye-contact with her.

But, I can't get comfortable. I know that she's still watching me.

How do I get rid of someone like that?

"She's still looking at you," Cailen whispers into my ear. I shake my head, still not wanting to open my eyes. "If you can't even look at her, why did you ally with her?"

I scoff.

I didn't even want to ally with her. During training, I didn't actively seek an alliance. I made the mistake, though. I went over to the station she was at. How was I supposed to know? How was I supposed to know that she's crazy and obsessive?

This wasn't supposed to happen.

She wasn't supposed to happen.

The girl from District Ten comes back out, and her District partner stands up, walking down the hallway. Cailen scoots down the bench a little, clearly eager to get her session over with. I'm eager too, but only to get away from Anaise.

She hasn't stopped following me around.

And, at this point, I don't know what to do.

Am I supposed to just go along with this alliance? I don't trust her and, frankly, I don't even like her. If anything, I prefer Cailen over Anaise – which isn't really saying much.

I shake my head.

Stay focused, I remind myself. You'll deal with her later.

Cailen laughs to herself, probably sensing my internal-struggle at the moment. As soon as the doors slide back open, Cailen stands up, patting down the back and front of her suit. She smiles at her allies who are waiting for her back at the end of the hallway. At least she's enjoying her alliance.

"Cailen Arkley."

Just one more person.

Then, it's my turn.

I lean back up, basically counting down the seconds until Cailen walks through the doors. Then, I can forget about Anaise. I can forget about my twisted alliance with her. I can focus on my training score, on my chances of doing well in the Games.

I can't let myself forget the real reasons I need to fight. The reasons I need to fight and win.

For my brother.

To show the Capitol that they don't own me, either. That's why I'm here.

I have to remember that.

"Alumax Derian."

As soon as I hear my name, I shoot up, and as I speed-walk down the hallway, I bump into Cailen. She bounces off of me, laughing and mumbling to herself. I walk through the doors, the discomfort of knowing Anaise is staring at the back of my head still there.

When the doors close, I let out a sigh of relief.

I take my time walking down the hallway, racking through my mind to see what I should work with. Sickles? That'd be an easy choice. I've used those before. But, what about something more challenging to impress them? So that they remember my name?

They already know me, though.

Because of Keld. Because of what he did during his Games a year ago.

Entering the Training Center, I pause, the Gamemakers already staring at me. They remain silent, their hands frozen in the air as they watch me take my first step forward. I can see the disgust from the expressions on their faces. They hate me.

And they should.

Because I hate them too.

I immediately go to the sickles. Grabbing one in my hand, I spin around, already slashing at the dummy. With each strike, I imagine Anaise's face on the dummy. I strike it a few times more, tearing the fabric and ripping it to shreds. But, after a while, I don't get satisfaction out of pretending it's Anaise.

I won't get any satisfaction until I can actually kill her.

Stabbing the blade into the dummy's head, I back up, grabbing another sickle. I attack another dummy, tearing this one to shreds as well, not even pausing for a breath. I slice upwards, slicing open the dummy's stomach up to its neck.

With one last strike, I take off the dummy's head, watching it fall back down on the ground. It rolls to the side, and I drop the sickle onto the ground. I smirk at the Gamemakers, all of them still staring at me.

I hope they enjoyed the show.

Not only mine, but the show my brother put on, too. Where he jumped off his pedestal.

I'm sure they enjoyed that.

I leave the Training Center, walking back down the hallway. In front of me are the doors, and behind them I know Anaise is standing there, waiting for me. As I approach the doors, they slide open, a figure standing right in front of them already.

And it's Anaise.

She's still waiting for me, that smirk on her face. Surprisingly, I find myself smiling back. I know that I have to be this way for her – to put on some façade until the time is right.

I'll act friendly. I'll be amiable towards her.

I won't show my dislike for her. I won't show how uncomfortable I am with this situation.

If I were to express my true feelings, Anaise would kill me as soon as she gets the chance. I know that she's that type of person – she's crazy. That's about it. But, in the Games, crazy gets you killed. Being obsessive, deluded, and deranged is what gets you targeted.

Little does she know, I'm the one targeting her.

But, I'll wait. I'll wait until we get into the arena to show her any of this.

It's her fault she's going to die, anyway. She's letting herself become a target and is going to get killed.

She's stupid. I'm not.

And I won't let myself get killed.

Author's Note:

I had to spread some things out in the Capitol in order to give most tributes a second POV. So, next chapter will the revealing of Training Scores, and then so forth. I know that some of these Capitol chapters can be a drag, but I really can't do much about it. Soon, we'll enter the Games, yeah? Just a little longer; have some patience.

Next chapter there will be a poll as well asking for your favorite tributes.

So, questions?

Any predictions on some of the Training Scores? What tributes do you think will score high and score low?